


The Rain in London Falls Mainly on the Crowley

by SanSanFanFan



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Domesticity, Fluff, M/M, Rainy days in London, Sick!Crowley
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-13
Updated: 2019-06-13
Packaged: 2020-05-02 12:50:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 985
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19199179
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SanSanFanFan/pseuds/SanSanFanFan
Summary: Written for an anon who wanted "flustered Crowley/domestic life" :)





	The Rain in London Falls Mainly on the Crowley

Aziraphale isn’t entirely certain what makes him look out of the windows of the bookshop at that exact moment. But for some (ineffable) reason, his gaze is drawn to the persistent rain outside and the waterlogged streets of Soho just as a very miserable Crowley slogs by, almost as though he’s forgotten the bookshop is even there.

He gets to the door to the shop slightly faster than conventional,  _earthly_ , physics should allow and opens just in time to offer the morose-looking Crowley a cheery, “I say! Hello there!”

The demon looks about as though lost for a moment before the twin flat black planes of his sunglasses lock onto the man in the doorway. His face remains blank, however. Has something truly terrible happened to his friend? Has Hell caught up with him again… no, he’s in one piece, missing no limbs or internal organs… Aziraphale decides to focus on what he can do something about for now.

“What on heav- what on earth are you doing Crowley?! You are positively soaked!”

The demon walks closer, and Aziraphale can see the paleness of his skin and the shiver in his lips. He’s wearing that thin black jacket that wouldn’t keep a fire warm, and he is drenched to the bone!

“Come in, come in!”

It’s only when the demon comes closer that Aziraphale sees that he is carrying plastic bags full of something. They are branded with the logo of that little express supermarket up the road, so he hasn’t come far.

He ushers the demon into the shop and bustles about him, trying to decide how to help. “Come, come and sit down. Here, wrap this about you. No, no, I’ll just disappear the rainwater.” It fizzles off of him like steam, but he’s still shivering and looking blankly ahead, “I’ll put on a pot of tea. Here, pass me those, dear?”

He eases the heavy bags out of his hands, taking the chance for a sneaky – and not entirely angelic – peak inside. Crowley seems to have been shopping… for food!

In the kitchen at the back of the bookshop, as the kettle boils and begins its shrieking lament, Aziraphale takes a moment to look inside properly. Its not just food, its ingredients. Flour, eggs, sugar… was he going to bake a cake? He wasn’t even sure Crowley’s flat contained an oven. He looked about suddenly, a finger to his lips as he considered his own kitchen. Ah, yes, one was over there. He’d forgotten all about it to be fair.

He comes back in carrying a tray with their teas, which he almost drops them as he sees Crowley curled up under the blanket and looking whiter than ever. His sunglasses have fallen from his head and even his yellow serpent eyes are pale as he stares into the distance.

“Oh, my dear!” He rushes over and near enough breaks the couch in his effort to get close to Crowley and to rub his frozen flesh through the blanket.

“Where’s that book?” he asks himself and makes it disappear on its shelf and appear in his hand.  _A Beginner’s Guide to Herpetology_  made its way into his collection some time ago, and he’d always thought it might be useful to keep about. He quickly consults its wisdom on warming up the cold-blooded, and soon after he summons three large sun lamps standing on tripods to beam down on them both, the wavelength chosen precisely for its efficacy. Not long after he’s fighting the urge to loosen his bowtie just a tiny bit as he sweats, but Crowley is beginning to stir, colour coming back to his cheeks.

He turns his head to look at where Aziraphale is still rubbing at his shoulder through the blanket, an eyebrow arching. “Hello, angel.”

“What were you thinking Crowley? You were frozen! December rain in London is not suitable for your spec- your kind.”

“Warm now.” He says in a slow, happy, voice. “Ssssoooo warm.”

“I put your eggs in the fridge.” Aziraphale had a fridge as well as it turned out. “And the flour and the rest is up in a cupboard.” He says the words carefully, leading the witness to talk about his misadventure.

“I wanted to make you ssssomething.” Crowley said, smiling as he basked in the light from the lamps. “Sssspur of the moment thing as I passed the co-op. I could’ve summoned up the bits but I wanted to do it proper. Then I got confused about the ingredientsss. Did you know eggs come in different sizesss? Do the chickens have different size… thingiess? Then I got caught in the rain.”

“Oh, you dear sweet boy,” Aziraphale laughed and fought the urge to touch the demon’s cheek as it seemed to turn redder. Perhaps it was just the effect of the heat lamps anyway… “But maybe we could bake it together? I have everything we need in the kitchen,” And he did (now). “It would be lovely to muck in with you. I haven’t got my hands dirty in the kitchen in years!”

But in his head, it was Crowley who was lightly dusted in flour. It was Crowley with icing on his nose. It was Crowley licking jam from a finger-tip… Aziraphale reddened too.

Crowley had that blank look back on his face again.

“Oh dear, still cold? I can keep rubbing?” Aziraphale said with concern and moved to start again.

“Ngjk,” A weird noise came from the back of Crowley’s throat and he swallowed deeply. “No angel, I’m perfectly okay. You go ahead and make a start and I’ll be through in a moment.”

“Wonderful!” Aziraphale patted him on his shoulder and went back to the kitchen as Crowley tried to push the adorable image of his angel in a frilly apron away. Of course, that was exactly what greeted him as he finally sauntered into his kitchen.

“Ngjk.”


End file.
